


Decisions, Decisions

by Tormented_Gale



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Gen, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-25 07:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3801604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tormented_Gale/pseuds/Tormented_Gale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble Requested on Tumblr: The character is on the battlefield and they have to take a terrible decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decisions, Decisions

They were going to lose. He knew that going into this. The groups they were fighting were stronger, better equipped, and had actually slept in the last few days for more than an hour. Even the battlefield was not ideal - rocky outcroppings meant vehicles were useless, fonists had to keep their distances and stay on the higher ground, leaving them open to archers and gunmen alike, and his own troops, whose boots showed the wear and tear of too many battles without refreshment, were barely aware of his orders anymore.

Yet, Sync was supposed to win this battle.

Van was off playing god and doing who knew what else, while the other God Generals were scattered (those that were left, anyway). They were merely buying time for their fearless commandant to finish his crowning achievement - Eldrant. After all, lives of a few thousand soldiers meant nothing to a man who could create a new army of unrefined replicas.

“Sir?” one of his lieutenant generals spoke up quietly. His voice was small, tired, and Sync wanted to snap at him to stand up straight but even he couldn’t manage the feat anymore.

“What?” he said, no heat in his voice but certainly impatience.

“We count three thousand enemy soldiers, with at least another thousand fonists.”

A massacre. That’s what he was walking his soldiers into. And they trusted him enough to do it, to think they actually stood a chance.

Fools. He included himself in that word.

“Understood,” he said instead. “Ready our fonists in the hills - get them into as much cover as possible. Have our shieldmen out front and fan out the other soldiers around the area. We will pincer them from behind and force them further into the valley, where our fonists will destroy them from above. Spread the word to the other generals.”

“Yes, sir!”

The man sounded relieved - probably because he thought Sync didn’t have any plan - and rushed off to do as ordered.

Still, as the enemy soldiers approached, and his own men got into position, he knew the odds. Even with him fighting in the middle of it all, this would still be disastrous.

A smile tugged at his lips, self-depreciating at its best, and he started to make his way down closer to the main action. He cracked his neck and his knuckles, watching his men form up ranks and hide themselves in the laughably sparse undergrowth.

“Prepare for battle,” he ordered.

_Prepare to die_ , he thought.


End file.
